


creation

by jessamoo



Category: Ripper Street
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 07:44:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8241724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessamoo/pseuds/jessamoo
Summary: "She could kill the whole world, and he would still save her." Jackson's thought process upon seeing Susan in prison - and deciding to get her out...





	

"I feel that God has abandoned me here, Matthew."

Susan's hands are shaking. He remembers one night, a long time ago, when he had spirited her away from her home in the night, running under the light of the stars, and her hands had shook as he held them, pulling her into the darkness. They had huddled together in the cold air as they sailed above the whole city. Chicago was a aglow beneath them, and they ruled the skies. She'd put her hands in his coat to warm them. He'd promised her the world. And now? She lived in a cell.

Jackson stared at the floor where she paced. He watched her put her hands on her swelling belly and the action seemed to settle her. She stopped pacing and shut her eyes, like their unborn child could speak to her, comfort her more than he could. Maybe that was true. He felt useless. Impotent. His wife was in jail, his love. His baby would be born in amongst the dirt and the criminals, not knowing there was a papa who loved him on the other side of those bars. (He thought it was a boy - She kept telling him he couldn't possibly know. "I'm a doctor, honey.")

Jackson didn't know if he believed in God, but even if he did, God sure as shit didn't care about the poor wretches in these walls.

But then there was her. And the child that grew inside her. She went against every law of science and order, she went against all known knowledge and history, she was the chaotic storm of his life and she was magnificent. Surely that meant something, the fact that she was here in front of him even now, after everything. Surely that was a sign.

He stood up and approached her, his hands up, like he was approaching a wounded animal. That's exactly what he was doing, after all.

She turned when she felt him near and her hands fluttered around her face for a moment, until he took them tightly. He placed them back on the swell of her belly. That's where they needed to be, where they belonged, holding their baby with his on top of hers.

"Listen to me darlin'" He said soothingly. When she ducked her head he picked it up again, his long fingers covering her cheeks. He forgot sometimes how small she was.

"Do not try and comfort me Matthew. I know what I have done. I know I deserve this...this abandonment."

"Caitlin." Her name makes her look up at him again and he holds her gaze, as strong as steady as he can. "You will never be abandoned. Not by me. And if the old git upstairs as abandoned you then he's an idiot."

"Don't say things like that." Caitlin said, but she smiled slightly.

"Well it's true. How could he abandon you? You...my girl." He smiled widely, even to this day sometimes not believing she'd chosen him. "You are the most beautiful thing in all creation." He moved her hair from her forehead, still impossibly bright even in the darkness of this place, and kissed her temple, then her cheek before wrapping his arms around her, her head coming to rest against his chest. 

 

He meant every word he'd said. God damn it, he meant it. And because he meant it he knew, knew in his bones that he had to get her out of there. Fuck what she said. It would be guns and horses if need be. Guns and horses, he thinks, as he marches from that prison. Even if it took him years, though who knew if they had that long. He'd find a way. He wouldn't let her die. Not her. He didn't care what she'd done. Didn't care who she'd killed. She could kill the whole world, and he would still save her. He wouldn't let anyone take her from him. She might have taken life with her own hands - but they were the hands that had cradled him in his despair. She had taken life but she was creating life, a little life that would eclipse everything.

The cold night air hits him like a punch to the gut as the metal gates clank shut behind him. He'd told her he'd weave their lives together. He had. She was his very heartbeat. He could live without her by his side, he'd done that before. But he couldn't live without her being in the world. That was a different beast.

As he walked home that night Jackson finally let in all the whispers that had been chasing him these past few months. He lets them in and he begins his plan.

Guns and horses, he thinks. Just like old times.


End file.
